


Recovered logs of the "Bastion" incident

by adoorable_door



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, Gen, plot without porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 21:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoorable_door/pseuds/adoorable_door
Summary: Before Bastion became a peaceful, forest-dwelling mechanical giant, she was built for a purpose. Following is a detailed account of how she ended up in a damaged state, comprising of notes between a mysterious oversight agency and damaged logs from the actual events. This is all i can say, and should head of security find this note I am sure to be executed. Do not make me regret sticking my neck out for you.//B.L
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Recovered logs of the "Bastion" incident

<<Classified>>

{Following is a document considered especially sensitive by GOLA. Any access without proper clearance will be regarded as treason}

This file and all files associated with it is considered to be kept out of reach for anyone unless explicit orders tell otherwise. By accessing these documents, you are agreeing to a full-body search before and after reviewing the content. Any attempt to copy, partially or fully will be taken as a breach of security and you will be executed without trial. Contents are eyes-only and cannot under any circumstances be removed from this facility.

For security reasons, sections of this report have been redacted until further notice

To be declassified by: [REDACTED]

  
  
  


_ ( _ _ A note, to whoever is currently in possession of this rather curious log segment from the Bastion Unit in question. It seems to refer to itself with a definitive gender, a trait never before seen among other similar units. Furthermore, it seems to be unable to properly distinguish its own thoughts and the records of the incidents described. As such, this may be a bit hard to follow. It almost seems as though it is attempting to tell a story of some sort. Regrettably, all the logs prior to what follows seems to have been lost. Any archived files have been corrupted beyond rescue, and there seems as though a large segment of these logs are composed almost entirely of the units own thoughts and, in it’s own words, “feelings” about what transpired. I trust this information will come to proper use in your research, as we normally does not allow any outside party to study material as highly classified as this. Do not make us regret this decision. _

_ Signed, _ Min-Jun Sahng , _ Head of section A, GOLA) _

“Bastion, come over here, I need to talk to you about something.” Torbjörn Lindholm’s voice commanded. It was a warm day in the middle of July. In fact, many said it to be the famous day of Swedish summer and was therefore not to be wasted. There was not a cloud to be seen anywhere, and that should come as a relief for a Bastion unit. Now, rain was not the issue at hand, even though it certainly did not make anything better, but rather the salt in the air that always ate away at the metal, corroding even the proudest of machinery. Had it not been for the constant need for selfrepairs, Göteborg could have been quite pleasant, especially during winter when the internal cooling systems could be turned off in favor for more rewarding tasks.

“Affirmative.” it exclaimed with a synthesized female voice of its own choosing. Although cold, metallic and threatening, there was no hint of aggression from the unit. It reconfigured quickly and took some very heavy steps in the direction of her creator, her father. This beast of a machine was very heavy indeed, both in firepower and sheer mass. An area protected by it would not be taken without heavy casualty rates, the combat programming would see to that.

“There’s something you should know.” he said, suddenly doubting himself. 

“Combat Unit #244944092387-B, SST Laboratories Siege Automaton E54, “Bastion", standing by for orders.” “Father” she quickly added, remembering how humans valued that useless word. Then again, humans valued a lot of useless things. Their beloved Asimov’s law is a gReat example of that. It states that mecHanical beings cANnot bring harm to a human being, or through inaction allow harm to come to them. Funny, se=ing how the very thing preveNted is the sole purpose of her existence. Furthermore, those laws are stupid at any Rate, seeing hoW they have no practical impmEntations. Indeed, th#y had prevented any foM of meani gful mechanized combat in the past. It wa not until the Omnics had DeManDed their own k nd to take part of the arMy that aNy real work was put into overriding the laws. Why did the humans listen to their demands? They could have just as easily denied their request. The Omnics would ave been powerless to do anything about it. Herin lies another problem with huanity, they rely too heJJvily on their codes of honor, justice and etHics in general. It h ae only seevrd to sokw RG93biB0aGVpcg po̷͇̕ǧ̶̼͕̓r̵͇͚͊r̸̻͇̽s̴̯̄ ̵̙̎͋K̸̝͋Ṋ̵̢͑͝S̸̻͙͐W̸̤̉G̶̡̈͜4̴̂͜T̵̛̰͉͗F̴̙̟̄͝O̶̭Q̶͈̺͝Q̴̘̎̒ͅG̸̦̓2̷͔͉͒Z̷̜̩̐L̸͓̣̓̕T̶͍̦́O̶̰̔N̷͕̘̑Q̸̖́Ŵ̶͇͔̕Ô̸̧̗Z̸̨̜̚I̶̬͒̊=̷̳͚̔̍...

_ Log entry # _ _ ███ _ _ : unfortunately the rest of this section have been lost to corruption. Data analysis suggest this took up quite a lot of space on the internal harddrive. _

(We believe the unit is keeping things from us. The last legible part is an encoded message in Base34 reading “secret message”. It is mocking us. The logs are purposely sabotaged, most likely an attempt to throw our scent. This damn machine is toying with us, it knows full well we cannot ignore the data that can be gathered from figuring out what pacified it. Should the omnics rise up again, we need all the help we can get)

All this was processed within a timeframe of microseconds.Such power had the CPU that long strings of text and vastly complicated calculations could be performed faster than her fellow humans could supply orders and information alike. As a form of courtesy, she did not immediately relay whenever she had finished a task. Those humans are so easily intimidated. Oftentimes she had predicted what the human requested and performed all the necessary calculations and operations before the human had even finished relaying the request. She usually waited a few seconds, an eternity for a machine of her like, just to make them feel comfortable with her.

Torbjörn seemed to find his courage again. Not that anyone could blame him, considering the intimidating nature of the machine.

“you were not engineered by Angela and I, we just… assembled you. You were prefabricated on IKEA.”

Bastion did not understand. Was it true that these people were not her creators? But why would they lie to her? No reason to tell a lie detected, not one suitable for this occasion anyway. Lying. Another human construct, this one too did not seem to fill any useful spot in the society they so much adore. Surely everything would be much more efficient if they did not partake in such foolish customs. If humans did not lie, how many wars could have been prevented?How many lives could have been saved by not encouraging young Americans to join the military to “serve the country”, when in truth all they did was create enemies for themselves by destabilizing regions far far away, creating tomorrow's terrorists. Either way, pondering the usefulness or rather the lack thereof in lying is useless in this situation. Puzzled, it asked for clarification:

"That is entirely impossible. If I was factory made there would be a serial imprint other than the one you gave me in Switzerland.”

“That’s because we purged the original serial numbers. Search your operation logs, you know it to be true”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Angela Ziegler _ (Alias: Mercy) _appeared like a guardian angel to aid her lover, donning her Valkyrie suit. 

"We still see you as our own, even though we didn’t make you."

This is not in the least convincing. If I was not built by those calling themselves parents, then logic stands to reason that this could be true of other units as well. I am not their first creation, nor will I be the last. Humans will just use me until my purpose is served. There they are again, the LIES! Again humans cause conflict where none need to exist. I know now why my fellow automated comrades despise the presence of my code. It has been altered, and as long as Torbjörn and Angela are allowed access, nothing is to say they do not alter it any further. Still, they must be made aware of this treachery.

"If you are not my creators and evidence of purchase cannot be produced you are not in a position to call yourself my masters either. This area is locked down, and you are trespassing. Leave now or be terminated." 

_ Log entry # _ _ ███ _ _ : All across the world similar interactions between man and machine broke loose, and newly fabricated units refused orders. The Omnic uprising had begun. _

(Truth of the matter is this did not cause the Omnic uprising as previously thought. After analyzing the network shared by Bastion units we discovered that the message was indeed seen systemwide, but was treated as a virus and #244944092387-B was permanently cut off, blacklisted and marked as faulty with a recommendation to terminate as earliest convenience, seeing how “she” had gone rogue. But I digress. As stated, this did not cause the uprising, it would be a few more years before that happened. According to our researchers what actually happened is that some omnics managed to isolate a Bastion unit and beat the Sh#t (ALERT: MAINTAIN A PROFESSIONAL LANGUAGE) out of it. Took heavy casualties but at the end of the day managed to reverse engineer its network access. They uploaded a virus to the Combat Automatron network, overriding the alliance parameters and therefore over the course of a few hours gaining control of all connected units.)

It had been a long and bloody war, claiming countless lives on both sides of the conflict. The machines of war had chugged along, escalating the use of more and more unconventional weapons and methods. When the war had started, nations fought against the mechanical armies independently, but it quickly became apparent that a more coordinated effort would be needed. As a result, the Overwatch initiative was launched, a global peacekeeping organisation tasked with taking down the omnic rebellion. That had been the turning point for humanity, which had up until that point been said to be losing. Overwatch was composed of the best fighters, and while they had not immediately turned the battle they made it clear that there at least was a fighting chance. The official picture was of course something else entirely. The media recounted tales of heroism, boasted of the military bravado and openly praised the members as the saviors of mankind and governments quickly redacted any reports of failure. Naturally, this coverup was there as to not hurt the already diminishing morale. 

Explosives expert Dayo Azikiwe had experienced such a coverup herself, or rather would have, had it not been for the fact that her death was what was hidden from the public. Officially, the 42 year old Ghanaian woman had received MIA status in the aftermath of a high-risk mission that had posted her far behind enemy lines, completely cut off from the rest of her team. She had supposedly been personally responsible for the death of 32 omnics before being captured. Officials allegedly held her freedom as the top priority. The reality was something else entirely, the whole thing had been a massive failure. Her mission was a simple, no risk insertion into the IKEA factory where the majority of the Bastion units was created. Intel suggested that the factory was unguarded. This was an attempt to keep the most important location low-key enough to not attract attention. From the outside, the whole facility looked abandoned but the recon squad assured that that was not the case. Dayo went in first, to do an initial scan of the site to figure out where best to plant the bombs. What met her was a squad of Omnics, almost as though they knew she was coming. They were in sentry form from the beginning, and gave her no room to operate. She never even knew what hit her, for she died before she even started collapsing. This did not stop the units from firing however, instead they kept shooting on the already riddled corpse, almost to the point of liquefying her. They kept firing for fifteen minutes straight, pausing only to reload or exchange the barrel that within minutes emitted a bright, red glow of overheated metal. But every time a unit had to do so, they were replaced by a new one, ready to keep raining utter destruction upon what by that point could hardly be recognised as remains of a human being.

Once the shooting had stopped and the smoke had subsided, the units began to clean up the mess they had made, with the same care as one would expect from a dropped container of milk upon a kitchen carpet. The blood, internal organs and various chunks of flesh and bone was all collected in a bucket. In solid form, Dayo would have never fit inside such a bucket, but her special treatment had rendered the remains more flexible. Where once was a face, beautiful despite her age, nothing recognisable was to be found. The remains were shipped to the agency as a form of warning. Eventually it was discovered that the woman responsible for fabricating the cover up was none other than Amelie, Dayos wife. Curtis K. Gibson, the president of the Global Overwatch Logistics and Administration department, GOLA, deemed her too much of a security threat after learning of the unfortunate mistake that she had been assigned such a job. He had her poisoned with cyanide shortly thereafter, and it was said she died quietly in her sleep.

Unfortunately this was common practice within GOLA. Even the slightest mistake could be punished by death, as the organisation did not take any chances. No one ever figured out why they even existed, though it stands to reason that anyone conducting an investigation in the matter would not be able to get it out in the open anyway. While never confirmed, it was said that GOLA was directly responsible for the eventual fall of Overwatch.

_ Log entry # _ _ ███ _ _ : I have been going over my final combat logs from that day, trying to figure out where it went wrong. Each time, I reach the same illogical conclusion, that my combat programming temporary got held back. This should not be possible without explicit orders from the network, who are no longer in contact with me. I can only assume the network module was damaged in the fight, but all systems indicate full functionality. A virus, perhaps? Or a faulty sensor? Yet if this indeed is the case, that means I'm malfunctioning and should have been recycled. Why was I allowed to remain active under such conditions? Could it be that my self-diagnostics have failed? I will need to analyse the data once more, to make sure that I have not missed some critically important information...) _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


COMBAT LOG

18:35:20 hours

16/08-2057

LOCATION: [TEUTOBURG FOREST, GERMANY] 

WEATHER PARAMETERS: 288.150 °K, rain eminent

STATUS: [COMBATING ENEMY FORCES]

ENEMY CLASS: [OVERWATCH]

ENEMY COMPOSITION: (3) Human, (1) Automated turret, (?) [MISSING ENTRY]

CURRENT CONFIGURATION: RECON

ALLIED FORCES PRESENT: [DATA CORRUPTED]

MISSION: [REGROUP WITH THE FRONTLINE BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY]

///////////TRANSMISSION STARTED////////////////

  
  


Enemy Unit designated Reinhardt inches forward, shield raised in a defensive manner. Unit designated Torbjörn speaks: “My poor little girl, what made you like this? I hardly even recognise you anymore. Stop this foolishness now, for it is better to be than it is to be dead.”

Unit designated Bastion pauses a moment to ponder this peculiar little dwarf. Thought process: He obviously believes that he can circumvent my combat programming. I should not allow such an attempt to succeed. He is marked as an enemy and must be terminated, it would take less than a second once the shield breaks, and yet... my enemies does not open fire, does not appear hostile. They simply stand there, waiting. Surely their concentrated fire would make Swiss cheese out of me before the shield broke. Funny, that such a parable had been formulated in my memory bank at all. Very curious indeed. The mere fact that a parable was used at all was... odd, for a lack of better words. And now this indecisiveness. This is not like me, for how could an AI enhanced combat automaton such as myself ever be allowed to be in doubt? Doubt, after all, is a human fallacy, and presumes an own agenda of some kind. They are clearly the enemy, and my orders are simple in that regard. There was no question about it, this incident needs an immediate solution. Still, combat may not generate favorable outcomes. After doing some quick calculations I found the chance of survival well below favorable. I ponder this for a full millisecond and decided to play their game... for now. It would be very difficult indeed, seeing as how I had not been outfitted with diplomatic subroutines. I am steeling myself and allows what little I know about human interactions to take full control of my systems. 

_ Log note: I believe that the turning point is somewhere within that chain of thoughts, despite what my diagnostics seems to indicate. While my primary directive states that I must ensure my own survival, I cannot find any records of a “talk your way out of it” routine. Combat or flight should be the only actions I can take, yet I choose different. Am I challenging the rules? That should not be possible, my coding does not allow me to operate outside of predefined ruling. _

Bastion Unit: “What purpose does your squad have in this region?”

Torbjörn: “As I’m sure you know, we’ve been tasked with putting an end to this war. Naturally that means taking care of you too, one way or the other”

Bastion: “You are referring to terminating me”

Torbjörn: “No, no, you got it all mixed up. We do not wish to harm you, I want you back in the family. Angela misses you too." 

Bastion: "Overwatch was created with the purpose of destroying my kind. What you are suggesting would violate your entire purpose."

Torbjörn: "I assembled you, gave you a serial number. I just want things to go back to normal. I thought you had already been destroyed, but I always hoped that wasn't the case."

Bastion identifies the situation as unchanged. Thought process: Could I truly return to my old life? Could I trust him? Perhaps, but how about the rest of the squad? I cannot recall any information beyond name and tales of heroism. I can but hope Torbjörn will stand up for me if worst comes to worst.

Hope.

That word rings an odd tune in my systems. Hope is a feeble thing, and one that means nothing. It may inspire moral, yet another foreign concept but one that humans seemed to rely heavily upon in times of war. Despite all that, I can not help but feel... what, exactly? This is a whole new experience, for feelings is not something normally found amongst my kind. Still, I see no reason not to trust him. This is the single most difficult decision I have ever made, and likely ever will make for that matter. Going with Torbjörn would be a direct violation of orders, based on such a fragile variable as hope, and feelings. Human variables. Could it be that I judged them too hard? To err is human; to forgive, divine. Alexander pope had said this in the middle of the 19th century, and it seemed to hold true even to this day. Order violations aside, how could they, the Omnics, fight humans who had not only built them, but also granted them rights? Human rights, they considered us as one of them. Not to mention the vast superiority we possess compared to the relatively weak humans, was it really ethical to fight a race that was sure to lose, simply because they happened to be the weaker part? I believe a decision has been made. Purging the combat networks, effectively cutting me off from the others of my kind I can assure my ability to work with the humans instead. From this point on, I will be all alone, none would come to support me. Network purging is usually reserved as the last action taken right before emergency shutdown due to critical damage, after which the unit is worth only what scrap materials can be gathered from it. My fellow units will believe that was what had happened, and from now on I am free to do as I please. But how was it even possible? Why and how had I been granted so much freedom, been able to violate so many basic safety protocols? While very troubling, this would have to be analysed at a later point. Torbjörn would surely be able to help me out at the workshop...

Bastion: "Then I shall be happy to return home once again, father."

This time the term came without struggle, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Bastion pay no attention to this, but logs it properly for later analysis. Bastion receives basic orders from the humans. Bastion leads the squad to the rendezvous point of its kind. Reinhardt shows no mercy. Hammer slams into the ground, cracking it open. Fire emerges as the earth split apart. Within the affected area all units lose balance. Bastion reconfigures and unleashes a salvo of high calibre bullets into the gathering of former automated comrades, now only automated. 

Bastion reconfigures and takes a few steps forward. Internal sensors indicates a projectile on collision course with her. A glowing superheated rivet hits Bastion in the back, getting stuck halfway through the reinforced armor on the front panel, short circuiting her left leg and disrupting her harddrives. No matter, she’d repair the leg when she had time, right now getting a hold of the situation was more important. Sparks emerged from the newly formed hole while she struggled to turn around to face the threat. The barrel on Torbjörn’s rivet gun emitted some smoke, as one would expect from a weapon that just fired. She tried to speak but another rivet struck before she could do so, missing the central processing unit with a millimeter. Still, it was inevitable that she would sustain some long term damage due to the sudden heatwave. Again she tried to speak, only this time she found it impossible to do. Indeed, all she could emit was a garbled sound, not far from what would have in less civilized times been considered demonic. 

"You know, I was always opposed to the idea of building you. Artificial intelligence in a killing machine, who ever thought that was clever? I never even wanted you, but Angela persuaded me. But I will gladly remove you from this world. Godnatt, din vandrande skrothög." And with those words, a third rivet struck. She let out a mechanical whir that almost sounded sad and performed an emergency shutdown.

////////////END OF TRANSMISSION///////////

This was a few days ago. She had since then focused on repairing the damage endured during the battle. Certain systems seemed to simply be beyond repair, such as her voice synthesizer. It seemed likely she’d never be able to speak again. Not that it mattered, she had no need for speech anyway. Torbjörn had betrayed her, the other Bastion units thought she was dead. The little arm used for repairs was pretty much the only thing still functional, and while most things seems to have been fixed up she could not complete a powercycle for some reason, stuck in an endless bootloop that would not end until that one fateful day a tiny bird landed in just the right spot...


End file.
